Yassen's Alex
by flyingdutchman08
Summary: Alex is the son of one of the world's most notorious assassin. Getting dragged to hell on earth, Brecon Beacons, is only the beginning.
1. Meeting Alex

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Alex Rider.

_Yassen's Alex_

_Meeting Alex_

The guards posted at the holding cells in the HQ of CIA could pride themselves at being called soldiers, having passed through a hard training to be where they were now. But they couldn't fathom the reason of why they were guarding a kid-a dangerous looking one at that, but a kid nonetheless; although what stunned them the most was the fact that their superior assigned six of them to be put on guard outside the cell-it made them wonder just who it was that they were guarding.

Michael Ford was a man in his early fifties, short graying black hair, a physic of a bull and neatly shaved beard on a severe face, that and a stance that practically screamed "discipline" suggested that he didn't seem to have much sense of humor; he was the officer in charge.

Michael read and re-read all the files-impressively thick files-concerning his rather unusual prisoner, a kid that at the moment was glaring at his soldiers with an anger that could put the glares of the most fierce drill sergeants to shame. The prisoner was named Alexei Nikolai Gregorovich, the only son of one of the world's best assassin, Yassen Gregorovich.

Although each of his files said the same thing, only now-looking at the picture of the youth attached to the file -could he believe that his prisoner was in fact, only seventeen years old.

Apparently the apple didn't fell so far from the tree, in both actions and appearance. Alex Gregorovich was a very handsome boy, the kind of person that could turn more than its fair share of heads; tall, with shaggy, untamed blond hair, cold brown eyes, angular features and a lean, muscled body with a scorpion tattoo running down his left forearm to his hand; a clear indication of exactly what he is.

The CIA had received a call from MI6 that there was a Scorpia assassin at work on American soil, and despite the more-than unusual call, they wasted no time. Michael, being with one of the teams sent to arrest the assassin witnessed what few men probably ever would.

After the boy became aware of them he ran-and that boy could run-until he got to a nearby ally with no escape, and that's where the show began. Michael and many of the soldiers that night could swear they've never seen anyone move like that on theirs years in the military, with his feline-like moves, the boy made his extremely diversificated fight-a fusion of a number of fighting styles-seem as easy as breathing. The boy managed to black out most of the soldiers with his incredibly complex fighting style before finally being knocked out by a tranquilizer.

And now here the boy was, glaring with so much venom he could practically feel the soldier's uneasiness.

By now, Michael was outside the cell, being target to the boy's glare; although it was an impressive glare, he was used to being subjected to hateful glares, so he wasn't very phased. A few minutes earlier he was at the phone with the head of CIA, Bruce Spilner, who told him that, according to the head of MI6, Alan Blunt, the boy was to return to England, not his homeland-Russia; according to Blunt, the boy "needed to face the consequences for his actions", and although it was clearly a lie, seeing as England was not the only country after the boys head (or his father's), Spilner seemed to agree with Blunt's decision, so it was not his place to question.

So there was he, in front of the cell listening to the arrival of a transport jet that also seemed to get the boy's attention.

"Mr. Gregorovich, you are being transported to England with trained, armed soldiers;" Gregorovich didn't seem impressed. "You'll be chained at all times until you get on British soil." said Michael.

"Where to?" said Alex.

"A military training camp in Wales, Brecon Beacons."

**A/N: Well, I really just love the idea of Alex being Yassen's son, so I decided to make something out of it with my favorite characters: Alex, Yassen and K-Unit! :D**

**Anyway, this is my first fanfic ever, so I am really sorry if I got any grammar or other stuff wrong, if you'll tell me to continue it I'll do some research on SAS training.**

**Thanks,**

**flyingdutchman08**


	2. Information

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Alex Rider.

_Information_

Alex's blank mask didn't betray any sort of emotion as he gazed at the evening sky from the window of the plane, but inside he was in turmoil; he couldn't bring himself to regret his capture, for it provided enough distraction so that his father could escape, however, that didn't erase the feeling of failure he was experiencing, and the heavy chains around his hands and feet only enforced the thought.

His father had mentored and trained him since he could remember, and although this life was not the life Yassen wanted for his son, he knew it to be necessary, the son of one of their most remarkable assassin was not something Scorpia would easily overlook, and it didn't help that Alex was extremely talented in everything he did.

Yassen made sure that his son would know both sides of life, the one Yassen himself had been born into, and the one he later acquired-the one that Alex had been born into, the world of wealth and glamour that was Yassen's lifestyle. Alex was always a mature, polite if not quite child, and despite Yassen spoiling him every chance he got, he taught Alex to appreciate everything he was given, to push himself beyond his limits and to adept to any ambience, and become one with it, so that later, when he decided to join Scorpia with his father, he became one of their most prized possessions.

Yassen always taught Alex to never underestimate his opponents, a mistake that Alex's enemies could certainly testify to, after all, Alex was a walking contradiction; but Alex couldn't see what he missed, he knew he didn't make any mistakes; carelessness was a luxury he couldn't ever afford.

He and his father were assigned to an important business man in New York-another nameless and faceless man to Alex-that was apparently trying to blackmail some of his clients, clients with powerful connections. The job was executed perfectly; there was no way that any US police force could have known about them, they never left tracks, they never did random.

Alex was not naïve to think that Scorpia wouldn't betray them-Scorpia was composed with people that would slit each other's throats without hesitation-or arrogant enough as to think MI6 couldn't track them, it was well known that MI6 had agents inside of Scorpia-it would only be a matter of time before their luck ran out, but the fact that they probably knew about a mission that was relayed in secrecy meant that they were more infiltrated than Alex had previously anticipated, and that was a troubling thought.

Alex pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind; he would have time to think about it later, for the authorities only had knowledge of one Scorpia assassin in New York, his father was still out there, and was coming for him.

No one messes with Yassen's son.

The extremely large room filled with SAS soldiers could barely be recognized as the mess hall, the tables were stacked and pushed to the far wall, and the chairs were positioned around the room facing a makeshift stage in front of one of the walls that was illuminated by the light of a projector.

The image shown on the wall was extremely unusual to the soldiers; it showed a picture of a handsome adolescent with brown eyes and a serious face. Usually meetings like this were made to relay a mission, to show the soldiers the targets and victims; but this boy couldn't possibly be a target, although he looked too dangerous and self-confident to be a victim. Finally the sergeant on the stage gazed at them with a serious expression and relayed the news.

"This gentleman, is Scorpia's latest weapon" to say the soldiers were stunned was an understatement, some almost choked on their own saliva, others looked incredulous.

"He will be joining us soon" At this some soldiers smirked.

"His name is Alexei Nikolai Gregorovich, son of Yassen Gregorovich." The smirks immediately disappeared.

No one could decide which was more shocking, that a kid was a Scorpia assassin, or that the kid was Gregorovich's son; the fact that a child was setting foot on Brecon Beacons training camp was looking very normal in comparison. Not to mention that they had a bad feeling that the boy inherited more from his father than just the looks.

The sergeant started to talk again.

"MI6 is interested the boy, they gave us specific commands; the boy is to endure the same training as you for however long he is to be here, he will definitely try to escape, and it is our job to ensure that doesn't happen, you'll all keep an eye on him, understand?"

"Yes sir!" the soldiers chorused.

"K-Unit! Stay behind, the rest of you are dismissed!" the soldiers hurriedly left the hall talking and whispering among themselves as four soldiers came up to the sergeant whilst he was getting off the platform.

The four man that walked towards the stage were young, the unit's leader came in the front, like in a pack; ironically enough his codename was Wolf, short and muscular with a broken nose and watchful gray eyes on a face that seemed permanently etched on a scowl (Eagle joked that when he was a kid he made a scary face and it got stuck like that forever-he almost got a concussion for that one); next came Fox, a tall, muscular man with dark hair; then Snake, the unit's medic, blonde and strong, seemed almost lanky because of his height; and finally Eagle, a tall, lightly muscled man with, and that-opposed to Wolf-almost always had a grin on his face.

"The boy will be here for an indefinite amount of time, and he will need to stay with a unit. It was recommended that he stays with you, he will arrive tomorrow morning." And with that he left, leaving four stunned soldiers behind.

Eagle seemed to be the first to recover.

"This shall be fun!"

**A/N: So what did you think?**

**I want to thank lovergirl85, Twilightaholic1122, AwesomeAnnika, K-UNITisHERE, The Storm's Rainbow, randomess6, Master of Minds, manga-otaku-94, HirakuOfArrow, brokenangelwings16, armanifan101 and The Phantom Dragon who reviewed, and all the people who favored and subscribed this story, you made my day, I was so happy I literally bounced in my chair and did a happy dance!;D**

**Again, thank you all! :)**

**Constructive criticism is always welcomed!**

**flyingdutchman08**


	3. Sergeant

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Alex Rider.

_Sergeant_

They awaited him on the field where the van would soon be pulling in. They received the call that the tracked vehicle with their awaited "guest" was within 15 minutes of the camp, and would remain in radio contact at regular intervals until confirmation that he had arrived.

There were only supposed to be the six of them in the grounds the boy would soon arrive: the four in K-Unit, the sergeant, and one Mrs Jones; but somehow that number had tripled, and more were coming, as the other soldiers who were supposed to be on their respective training course, found themselves sneaking in slowly as if not to draw the unwanted attention of the sergeant. The sergeant, on the other hand, had too much in his mind to bother himself coming up with creative threats to yell at them (however entertaining as it might be), although the ones assigned to cleaning duty trying to blend in with the rest were really grinding on his nerves, with their long and slow walks to get the supplies the apparently "forgot" repeatedly. Perhaps another month on scrub duty would ensure they never forget where the cleaningproducts were kept.

Taking in his surroundings, the sergeant assumed that perhaps a third of the soldiers (and a few of the instructors, he noted to his annoyment) currently in the camp were just a small distance away from where he and his companions today were standing. The recruits, who still thought of him as some kind of demon, were torn between doing a very good impression of a deer caught in the headlights and sneaking off as if they were just taking a break. The other soldiers, who also thought of him as some kind of demon, but had been with the SAS long enough to know that he wouldn't actually make a noose of their intestines and hang them with it, stood their ground and tried to make themselves look like they've been invited to be here, though they did avoid his eyes, the sergeant was pleased to notice, perhaps the rumors about his glare were still in effect.

The sergeant then brought his gaze to the woman beside him. Despite the relations between MI6 and SAS, and their dealings in the past, the sight of her here unnerved him almost as much as it angered him. When he first heard the news that a teenager was to be grounded in his camp, and his elite soldiers were to play the part of babysitters to the brat by request of MI6, his reaction had been much the same as Wolf's, who stood to his left grinding his teeth together so hard he could see the movement of the muscles in his jaw, and demanded a meet his commanding officerat once.

Peter Sterling was a grim faced man that stood strong and proud with 54years of age, but in that day, he looked older and more weary than he had ever seen him when he explained the circumstances and the position that the boy held at the terrorist organization known as Scorpia, and that MI6 had though best to keep the boy safe from harm in the training ground in Wales, where he would likely be safest (and more closely watched). It was a strict need-to-know debriefing, but the sergeant had information enough, and good sense enough to connect the dots.

He had heard of the murders of the political figures around the globe, they had been far between, discreet, and with virtually nothing to connect them to one another but for the fact that they were arranged by the same organization – Scorpia, although that particular information was kept buried deep. The murders, while not particularly conspicuous, had stirred the attentions of local reporters all the same, and the appearance of military Special Forces around the areas had stirred more dust than the governments would like. His position was not high enough to grant him access to the appropriate files, but theSASwas a small world in itself, and rumors flew from everywhere, even from half a world across, and little birds these days whispered that MI6 seemed very restless since the incidents began, and that Scorpia was stirring awfully much as of late.

He tried not to think of the implications that the boy coming here caused, but he could not help it. If the Gregorovich bastard was sent here, so close to home to MI6, it was because they were not willing, nor trusting, to have the boy anywhere else. He was not as blind as perhaps Mrs Jones thought him to be, he may not have known Yassen Gregorovich, but he was a father too, and he knew with ice cold certainty that Gregorovich would never let this go, that he would come for his son, for his cub.

Cub…that seemed like an appropriate codename.


	4. Eagle

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Alex Rider.

_Eagle_

Wolf was grinding his teeth so hard that Eagle was beginning to feel sorry for his dentist. He glanced around himself to see Snake and Fox with stony looks on their faces, the MI6 woman that smelled so strongly of peppermint that Eagle was tempted to ask her for one (they looked delicious, if the rate in which she stuck them in her mouth was anything to go by)…his gaze landed on the sergeant who had a grimace on his face, and coming from him it could mean anything from loathing to constipation. Further on he could see practically everyone else in camp, from the recruits flinching from the sergeants 'glare of doom'™ to the poor bastards on scrub duty – who looked at the same time hesitant (for the risk of more punishment)and too curious to actually leave, and were currently trying to blend themselves to the trees to become smaller targets. The other instructors in the field looked so confident that one would actually think they were invited by the peppermint lady herself.

It was unnerving as much as it was amusing to Eagle seeing them all gathered in the field waiting on the kid, it felt like everyone was holding their breaths somehow, like they were waiting for Gregorovich senior to appear with a hacksaw the moment junior stepped foot in the grounds, and although the possibility of Gregorovich appearing with an actual hacksaw was both horrifying and awesome, it was also highly improbable; Gregorovich was the careful type, the kind of guy that liked to keep himself at a distance (probably with a sniper rifle), nonetheless, the units spent last night and this morning patrolling the grounds, and the sergeant had commanded a few units to stay positioned around the higher grounds of the property to keep a lookout.

The sudden thought of Gregorovich invading Breacon Beacons like some kind of Russian Rambo made him snort, and he could practically feel the air moving as the heads of his unit and the sergeant turned to stare at him, Wolf would have rolled his eyes if the act was not so disgustingly undignified, and the others just huffed and looked back at the entrance; Eagle was the kind of person that laughed in tense situations, and the way the sergeant kept glaring at him like he could set him on fire was not making him any calmer, if he could just stop his lips from twitching he might be able to escape this with just the 'glare of doom'™.

Eagle was one of the few with relative immunity to the glares, once you get acquainted with the Wolfman in the mornings, there's not a scowling face in the world that could scare you anymore.

Fortunately the van chose this moment to make an appearance, and saved Eagle from what would probably be two weeks of cleaning toilets (the sergeant seemed to think he wasn't getting through to Eagle by simply sending him to scrub the floors), and then it was show time.

Maybe the brat could liven up this place a bit; there were way too many scowling faces here already.

Eagle found he was wrong the second the kid stepped out of the van, with a death glare of his own, like he was daring everyone to try and touch him (which was probably the right idea in Eagle's book; Scorpia aside, most of them had had late night shifts for preparation for his upcoming arrival, and those who had slept the total amount of maybe 4 hours last night probably wanted to introduce the kid's face to concrete), but Eagle couldn't help but wonder if it was all an act, like a newbie on their first trip to prison, trying to look tough and unafraid, like maybe that would keep the big dogs off their backs, and suddenly Eagle felt an immense sadness when he remembered that this kid was just a _kid_, seventeen years old. He remembered being seventeen – school, worrying about math that was kicking his arse, being on the soccer team, trying to figure out a way to ask out Cathy Mason from English lit class, driving his dad's beat up chevy, and he wondered if Gregorovich ever enrolled his son in school… he doubted it, though he was sure this kid drove cars with his dad that he would have given his right testicle to drive at that age.

The kid was tall, he supposed, for a boy his age; had blond hair that had recently been under the care of the standard military clippers, a sharp face, with high cheekbones and large brown eyes, no acne, unlike himself at that age; handsome, the kind that would have all the pretty girls at the school making eyes at him.

The sergeant and the peppermint lady – Mrs Jones, his brain supplied, approached the youngster and his 7-foot-tall MI6-issued babysitter, and started talking in low tones with the boy, who was divided between glaring over her shoulder or glaring at her; after about a minute of talking, Mrs Jones apparently couldn't press a reply out of the boy, and turned her attention to the Sasquatch next to him, a couple of seconds and some nodding later, Sasquatch got back inside the vehicle and left. Mrs Jones introduced the sergeant, and sarge spoke to the boy for some time, probably the usual if-you-step-out-of-line-I-will-drive-your-skinny-ass-so-low-into-the-ground-you-won't-be-able-to-find-your-way-back-up-again speech, though with probably more fancy words and veiled threats as opposed to his usual bluntness with the MI6 woman right next to him. The boy said nothing, though he did stopped glaring, and simply looked straight at the sergeant in a dispassionate way.

The sergeant started back to where Eagle and his unit were standing with the youth and Mrs Jones in tow.

"Mr Gregorovich, this is K-Unit, you'll be staying the remainder of your time in here with them, you'll share all their activities, you'll sleep when they sleep, you'll eat when they eat, you are not allowed to wander the grounds unsupervised during any free time, if your unity is unable to accompany you I'll provide someone who will, otherwise you are to stay within your unit's cabin. Do you have any questions?" The boy kept the stony silence. "This is Wolf, the leader of your unit, next to him is Fox, Snake and Eagle, we maintain relations in codename basis in the SAS, as I'm sure you know. Mrs Jones tells me that you'll be able to perform alongside your unit…that remains to be seen, I'll be receiving progress reports about you on a regular basis, and you'll be assigned a standard SAS psychiatrist" The boy continued silent, but the glare returned full force, looks like the kid enjoyed the idea of visiting the shrink just about as much as the rest of them did. "You'll be Cub." If it was possible the glare doubled in force and the boy had an expression that was somewhere between incredulity and indignation, much to the amusement of the sergeant. It made Eagle wonder what his codename with Scorpia was; probably something awesome like Magnus or Wolverine.

"My codename is Hunter." Said the boy. It was the first word he spoke since arrival.

The sergeant actually looked a little startled that the boy addressed him at all, more surprising still is that the subject would be his poor choice in codenames; though to be fair 'Cub' was not near the worse that the sergeant could do, there were guys in here named Frog and Rat, and judging by his sadist streak alone the kid was lucky the sergeant didn't just pick 'Kitten' and left it at that, though he had to admit, Hunter _was_ a pretty cool codename.

"Not in here it isn't." The sergeants tone suddenly became cold, and he administered a little of his own patented glare for good measure.

Gregorovich schooled his expression and looked at each them in turn in an assessing and disinterested manner, before looking at the rest of the inhabitants of Brecon Beacons in the sidelines. Eagle looked around himself to see that the soldiers were slowly trickling out, their still pressing duties to attend to coupled with their initial curiosity about their new member satisfied for now. Then Mrs Jones stepped in.

"You may be returning to your activities gentlemen, Alex will be in your cabin when you return tonight and will start accompanying you as of tomorrow" She spared the barest of glances at to Eagle and his unit and then turned to the sergeant. "I would speak with Alex privately Michael, shall we retire to your office?" He nodded wordlessly and the three of them made their way to the sergeant's quarters.

Eagle, as always, decided to throw in his two cents.

"He looks nice."

The rest of his unit turned to stare at him again, Wolf grumbling incomprehensibly as he cuffed him in the back of the head.

**A/N: Hello. *ducks in fear* I apologize to all of you profusely for the absence, but I shall not prolong myself in excuses, however these past years have been pretty hectic and a lot of change happened in my life, among them university and other unexpected responsibilities, I never abandoned fanfiction (for it is one of my passions), but I have always been more a reader than a writer, and through it all I lost the will to go back to this story, but your reviews and messages and favorites and alerts brought me back to it and I don't plan on abandoning it. I intend on writing more fanfics in other fandoms that have caught my interest, but I have every intention to keep updating this one as often as I can, and not leave you waiting again all this time between chapters.  
I thank again each and everyone of you for your amazing reviews and messages, and because I don't have the time to message all of you individually, I dedicate this chapter and all chapters to follow to you.**

**flyingdutchman08**


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